The Witch-He-Loved
by Basium1
Summary: He spent a good amount of his life listening to the wants of one witch long after she was dead - if you squint at this summary, it could be a Snilly fic…


[***]

Passion was something he lost a long time ago, but it didn't stop him from feeling and yearning for what was lost.

"I takes care of you, I takes good care of you." His wide grin made it thrash against the chains that bound it. He looked around at the kitchen he'd done a good job in preparing this time.

He looked up at the object of his affection.

"I is doing a good job, Mistress?" Through a stern pout, her cold eyes were his answer. Nothing he had ever done for her was enough. He listened to her complaints with an absent smile. He was hers to do with as she pleased and she was his for as long as she would allow it.

"Decent, wretched house elf." He hoped that it would be forever and always.

He grabbed the bottle that had once held butterbeer. Inside was a concoction that would soften its bones up and make its ability to feel enhanced. The fact that it would stop it from moving was another plus.

Returning to the ugly beast's side he pressed the bottle to its lips. He growled when it refused to open its mouth. He pinched its nose shut, having had experience with this before, "Swallow, you is swallowing, now."

It made a grand show of swallowing and he tilted its head and wondered how stupid did the beast think he was. His mistress gave an amused giggle as the beast tried to hide the potion in its cheeks.

Shaking his head, he removed the bottle and placed his other hand over its mouth in one fluid motion.

"Swallow."

It was the last time he would order it.

He sighed and said, "Mistress, I is sorry - I can't give you dirty muggle's screams."

It did get to scream, but it was muffled since he had burned its lips together.

He looked wearily at his Mistress, wondering what punishment she would dish out when his warning came true. She realized it another moment later and laughed.

Relief washed over him.

She always did love watching him play with her food. He undid the bindings with a snap of his fingers ignoring the muggle's muffled screams which slowly dissipated into desperate sobbing as it finally gave up hope.

He stopped focusing on the beast, stepping around the kitchen, giving the pot one last rinse before pouring water into it and setting it to boil. The muggle had gotten up and was coming up behind him, slow with each step flopping on the floor.

For a moment he wondered what it was he had forgotten.

Ah, yes, the knife.

He looked back at it and saw the knife that he had been sharpening earlier was raised over its head as though it believed that was a threat.

He sighed and summoned it, catching the knife in his left hand. It stood there for a moment and he wasn't the type to waste time. As the water was bubbling he supposed that it was hot enough.

When the pot began to levitate over the beast, it just stood there - like the idiot it was.

His Mistress's screeched laughter brought a smile to his face.

He liked to soften the flesh further since the muggles were quite stringy and had a problem with getting stuck between the teeth.

As it shuddered on the wet floor he rolled it over with magic, unwilling to touch it himself.

He examined the listless grey eyes and scooped them out and throwing them into the empty pot.

It was too weak to struggle further, in fact all it did was whimper little "mm"s and try to get away. He left it when he had cut off the hands to skin and place the softened bones on its very own dish.

"Filthy muggle, getting blood all over Mistress's floor!" He yanked it to him with a spell and he sighed, "Mistress, can I's be doing the honor?"

"I suppose… it's making quite a mess, isn't it?" He levitated it and placed it onto the kitchen table.

With his knife pressed to its mouth, he grinned before frowning and furrowing his brows in concentration. He had to be careful, lest he ruin the knife on one of the beast's teeth.

It began to struggle again and even went as far as to push him. It was too weak to do much, thanks to all of the blood loss. He grimaced and realized that he would have to wash himself after this.

He inhaled the rancid smell of urine and stool as the beast lost control of its bowels. He quickly cleaned it up knowing His Mistress wouldn't be happy at the sight.

With a snap of his fingers the chains bound the beast again. As he worked, his lip curled. The beast screeched as though it had the right to feel pain.

Absurd.

Being sacrificed for His Mistress was the greatest honor the muggle could ever receive.

It went quite well until he got to cutting out the tongue.

His hand slipped, making a deep stab running form the back of the throat to the cerebellum. He grumbled as he chopped the beast to bits. Each knife stroke was careful as it wasn't easy obtaining such fresh ingredients.

This muggle would decay as quickly as the others.

[***]


End file.
